Alice Diana Boboc Biography

Sometimes you'd fall asleep with your eyes open to catch the sky between your eyelids like you would keep a butterfly between two fingers
and you're thinking that from all the clouds on Earth, the tear is the purest and most alive.
so alive that the children lose it from their eyes easy,
and it transforms their sight in a window fogged by the heat of the stove in a winter day
...

The rustling of the skin - a shadow over which the clouds fall
in a bundle of slow movements
the leaves touch each other with kisses
over one another - over and over again - among dew / rain / crying drops
...

we leaped over pilows, we fought with those
we stomped those over with our feets
and my braded wet hair
was smelling like sun and jasmine
...